Camera Obscura
by TarynWanderer
Summary: Slash, harlequin-type romance. Historical AU. Tsarevich Pavel, Russian prince, is arranged to wed the King of the Scots, Montgomery the Scott. Written for a prompt. Total crack, turned into a gigantic love letter to Edinburgh. Schmmmaltzy!
1. Chapter 1

**Camera Obscura (or, Sunshine on Leith)**

**Author's note**: The prompt was basically "Scotty/Chekov historical medieval AU where gay marriage is as normal as the alternative, Chekov is a Russian Prince engaged to the King of Scotland". Obviously it was meant to be pretty cracky, but it morphed into a giant love letter to Edinburgh, and I got embarrassed by it. Among other things that are totally inaccurate, the Camera Obscura telescope wasn't built until the 1850s or something but Scotty came up with trans-warp theory via time travel paradox so does it really matter? The royal palace and some of the outer parts of the Castle weren't built for about a hundred years, and the Balmoral tartan didn't come along until waaay after that. I took Chekov's title from a wiki entry on the tsars, probably totally anachronistic but it was comically long and I couldn't resist. Anyway, I hope it doesn't kick those who actually know history too much out of the story. Also, I don't know how to put on a full old-timey kilt, I'm trusting the internet on that one (it sounded kinky). And I'm sorry for everyone being so out of character. BAH.

* * *

THE MARRIAGE OF

Montgomery mac Alasdair

Montgomery the Scott

Defender of the Faith

Ri nan Albannach (King of the Scots)

and the Lordship of Orkney

and the Dominions and Territories thereunto belonging

to

Великий князь Павел Андреевич Чехов

(Velikiy Knyaz Pavel Andreivich Chekov)

Tsarevich of Moskwa and All Russias,

Grand Duke of Vladimir, Lithuania, Volhynia, and Finland,

Prince of Estonia, Livonia, Poland, Bulgaria, and other territories

hereditary Lord and Ruler of the Circassians and Mountain Princes and others;

Lord of Turkestan, Heir of Norway, Schleswig-Holstein, Dithmarschen

and so forth, and so forth, and so forth

at

St Margaret's Chapel

Edynburgh Castle

St Sergius Day

1426

* * *

Tsarevich Pavel was miserable. He was far from home, tired, and scared, and dreading his final destination. He had left behind in Moskwa all his brothers, his parents, his teachers, and his beloved animals. All he had left was his Hikaru.

Hikaru was the son of a ronin, and had run away from his vicious father when he was only twelve. He had run very, very far, all the way from Nippon to Viatka. He ran for four years, stealing and fighting along the way, running through the empire of the Great Khan and somehow past the Golden Horde, until he was captured by the tsar's soldiers and brought to Moskwa. When Tsarevich Pavel turned ten, his father gave him Hikaru as a personal bodyguard.

Young Pavel had been dazzled by the sixteen-year-old's exotic beauty, his firm musculature and rich complexion. By how brave and strong he must've been to survive so long amongst the Golden Horde, how cunning and smart (though he was no match for Pavel's great father, of course). Hikaru and Pavel became fast friends, and in many ways, the tsarevich considered his Hikaru to be his only friend.

So it broke Pavel's heart when he decided to run away, because he knew how disappointed his Hikaru would be. Three months out of Moskwa, they were staying at an inn in Lubeck, waiting for their ship, and Pavel had somehow lulled himself into peace the last few days. But their ship was leaving the very next morning, and their journey was almost over, and Pavel realized how very much he did not want to go through with this arrangement.

Pavel left his Hikaru sleeping in their room, and crept out past the soldiers that were escorting them, past the innkeepers and other guests, and slipped into the night.

He crept down the alley, looking for an apple or hay cart. He had an elaborate plan for escape that involved hiding on a farm, and later perhaps finding a small backwards town that he could quickly civilize and manipulate with his inventions. When he felt thick fingers pinching his ear he realized he should never have underestimated his Hikaru.

"You unbelievable brat!" Hikaru scoffed, dragging Pavel along the street. "I can't believe you thought you'd get away with that. And so late in the game, too."

"I'm sorry Hikaru!" the tsarevich cried as he tried to pry Hikaru's grasp off his ear. "I had to at least try. Wouldn't you?"

"Heh," Hikaru smirked. "And what would happen to me, huh? You'd want to me to go to Scotland and tell your husband you aren't coming, or go back home and tell your father you're missing?"

"You could come with me, if you wanted," Pavel said hopefully. "I would've asked if I thought you would say yes."

"Right," Hikaru said, his voice low and unbelieving. They were back at the inn and Hikaru pushed Pavel in front of him, once again creeping past sleeping guests and innkeepers, and accompanying soldiers. They didn't have to send escorts; Hikaru was the only protection Pavel needed. They were only good for minding Pavel's several trunks of luggage.

"We can't go running off and live like nymphs in the forest," Hikaru said jovially when they got back to their small room, sitting down on the lumpy bed and pulling Pavel towards him. "And I can't let a stunt like that go unnoticed. I don't think you'll be able to get away with that nonsense in your new home," he said as he tipped Pavel over his knee.

"No Hikaru don't!" Pavel pleaded, his voice high and panicked. His Hikaru had never spanked him, never even had a harsh word for him, until they had left on this godforsaken journey. He was still the kind, friendly young man that Pavel loved and admired, but he was so strict now, and did not indulge the tsarevich at all. Three months on the road with nothing to do and limited conversation hadn't brought out the best in Pavel.

"Do you have any idea what could've happened to you?" Hikaru asked as he pulled up Pavel's tunic and pushed down his leggings. A strong hand came down hard on Pavel's bare bottom, and the boy yelped. "Nobody here knows you, and we barely speak the language," Hikaru continued smacking the bare skin hard, ignoring Pavel's wiggles and cries. "How do you think I would've felt if someone hurt you? If someone took you away and I never found you again?"

"I'm sorry!" Pavel wailed, trying not to cry. Hikaru was strong and his smacks hurt - Pavel had learned the hard way that his Hikaru would not pull his punches and indulge him the way his teachers had. "I didn't do it to hurt you. I would never do anything to hurt you!"

Hikaru landed a few more resounding slaps and then stopped, resting his hand on the tsarevich's now-red bottom. "I know," he said, with a small hint of sadness.

"I just don't want to go through with this," Pavel sniffed miserably as he was guided back to his feet, his leggings pulled up over his sore bottom. "I want to go home."

"I know baby, but we're committed now," Hikaru said gently, drawing the tsarevich onto his lap and hugging him close.

"I don't want to be married!" Pavel was crying now, trying to push Hikaru away. But the other man was stronger, and held him tight, cradling Pavel's head on his shoulder.

"Shh, hey, now," Hikaru said. "I thought we made peace with all this. You know you don't have a choice, you know this is important to your father, and anyways we're almost there. Maybe King Montgomery will turn out to be really nice."

"He is not Moskwavy. He's uncultured swine!"

"That's not fair. I'm not Moskwavy. Am I swine?" Hikaru asked.

Pavel lifted his head and looked at Hikaru. "You're different. You're my Hikaru," he said sadly. "And when you speak Nipponese to me, it is beautiful. These Scots all sound like quarrelling rats."

"You've only met two Scots," Hikaru said. He pulled Pavel up onto the bed and laid him down. "So, stop being unreasonable and go to sleep. You know you're not going to win this one."

Pavel obeyed, sullenly, tucking himself under the blankets. He watched Hikaru get comfortable once again on his pallet on the floor. "Will you cuddle with me?"

There was a pause, and he heard Hikaru sigh. Then the other man joined him on the bed. "I don't think your new husband would be very happy if he ever found out," he said as he took Pavel in his arms.

"He is not my husband yet," Pavel replied tartly, cuddling up to his Hikaru. He sighed happily, and after a moment, pushed his face up to mash his lips clumsily against Hikaru's.

Hikaru recoiled. "No, Pasha."

"Please? It is only a kiss, it doesn't mean anything-"

"No, Pasha," Hikaru said, a hint of threat in his voice.

Pavel sighed miserably and buried his face in Hikaru's chest. The other man wrapped strong arms around him.

"What is it like to lie with another man?" the tsarevich asked softly.

Hikaru sighed again, and didn't answer.

"You hated it," Pavel said, like this proved an hypothesis.

"I was too young, that's all," Hikaru said. "And I was only doing what I had to to survive. You're a prince, and you're almost all grown up, even if you don't act like it," he squeezed Pavel gently.

Pavel rubbed his face against his Hikaru's neck and breathed deeply.

"You're making this more difficult than it has to be," Hikaru went on. "You don't want me, not really. You're too smart for me. I bet you anything, we'll get to Edynburgh and you'll think it's the nicest place ever, and you'll fall in love with your new husband in a heartbeat."

* * *

His Hikaru was _wrong_.

The sailing journey from Lubeck to Leith was uneventful, and quite nice in itself, all blue skies and blue seas and sitting with his Hikaru, playing games, or sometimes reading aloud from his manuscripts of Czech plays and poetry. They talked to great length about astronomy, and even though Pavel knew his Hikaru was quite bored, he loved the way his bodyguard always tried to look interested. He sometimes wished, however, that his Hikaru would challenge him, the way his teachers used to before he became too clever for them, but that was not Hikaru's place. (Spanking his bare bottom when he ran away or was rude to other passengers, apparently, was.)

When they landed in Leith, Pavel disembarked with shaky legs, despite the sunshine and clear weather and smell of damp grass. He was nervous and angry and scared. Before he got two steps, followed closely by his Hikaru and the other soldiers carrying his many trunks, he was greeted by the handsome, smiling face of Captain James Kirk. Kirk had been the one to travel to Moskwa over a year ago to arrange Pavels marriage. Pavel's venerable father had perhaps been dazzled by Kirk's handsome charm, but Pavel hadn't been comforted by Kirk's companion, an ugly, hulking man that Kirk called "Cupcake".

Cupcake was not here, however, instead the Captain had at his side a beautiful Nubian woman. Hikaru nudged Pavel, who had never seen a Nubian before and was quite obviously staring. "Don't be obnoxious," the older man muttered.

The Nubian woman turned out to be Nyota, King Scott's translator. Hikaru looked at Pavel expectantly when she greeted them, but even having someone in his new home who spoke his mother tongue so beautifully could not cheer up the tsarevich.

The Captain drove them all to town in an elaborate coach, followed closely by his entourage. Hikaru and Nyota spoke animatedly throughout the journey, Kirk interjecting now and then to point out sights he thought Pavel might like – the city walls, the castle high atop the hill. Some sheep. As Nyota and his Hikaru carried on their conversation in Russian, Pavel watched them out of the corner of his eye, arms crossed.

By the time they arrived in Edynburgh, the skies had darkened and sad clouds cried rain down all over them – not enough to drench right away, but over time they would be soaked. "What a beautiful day!" Kirk exclaimed as he brought them into the city. It was like Edynburgh always had one contemptuous cloud above it, stubbornly raining away. Pavel could not understand why anyone would want to live here.

At the foot of the Royal Mile, and after several failed attempts to bring him into the conversation with Nyota, his Hikaru elbowed him again. Pavel guessed that perhaps his silence was seen as being 'obnoxious'.

"We've made a friend," Hikaru said. "That's pretty good, right?"

"You've made a friend," Pavel grumbled. And it wasn't like Pavel hadn't noticed Nyota's beautiful eyes or long straight hair or how Hikaru looked at her like he was dazzled. He sighed.

"All these people are excited to come out for your wedding," Captain Kirk was saying, gesturing out at the crowded, narrow cobble-stoned street, filled with people in their rain-soaked, threadbare clothes. The tenement buildings lining the streets teetered inward at the tops; women came to the window and dumped out buckets of filth onto the streets. Pavel scowled.

"They are disgusting," he muttered to his Hikaru.

"It's exactly the same at home, Pasha," Hikaru replied. "And anyways it's not like you're gonna live down here."

He was right, of course – they reached the top of Castle Rock and through the fog Pavel got the first up-close look at the Castle – a huge, grey collection of towers and arches and smaller buildings. Captain Kirk pointed out the battlements, the various walls, talked about what parts of the castle were built when. He pointed out the Nor Loch visible around the cliffside, and Pavel was begrudgingly impressed by the sound strategy of the castle's construction – atop a steep cliff, surrounded by a natural moat, with only a thin road connecting it to the peasant town at the foot of the Rock.

He felt a little pang of homesickness – the castle was so different from his father's palaces. It was all straight lines and grey brick, and it loomed forbiddingly out of the fog. The palace where Pavel had grown up was bright and tall, all soft colours and long spires. This place was so foreign – but it was alluring in its own way – the castle was strong and thick and masculine, and Pavel was surprised by how beautiful he found it.

They passed through the large arch in the front of the gate, servants and guards milling about despite the now-heavy rain. In the open-air square inside they were greeted by two more men – both tall and intimidating, one with soft brown hair, the other with pitch black hair and piercing dark eyes and, notably, ears that tapered up into an elf-like point. Pavel wanted to stare, having never seen an elf before (this was a day of firsts, apparently), but not wanting to embarrass his Hikaru further, he kept his gaze firmly on his feet.

Captain Kirk basically jumped out of the carriage and bounced over to the two men. "Spock!" he cried out cheerfully, pushing the elf-eared man forward. "Meet the king consort, Pavel." After listening to him for a few hours, the tsarevich could almost entirely understand the Captain through his accent.

Spock took one of Pavel's hands in his. "Greetings. I trust your journey was pleasant." Pavel didn't have much of a response except for a scowl. "I will be your tutor," Spock went on. His voice was more polished than the Captain's and he spoke much slower.

Pavel raised a suspicious eyebrow. "_You_ will be my teacher?" He straightened himself up, haughtily. "I had finest minds in all Russia as my teachers."

"Pasha!" he heard his Hikaru hiss behind him.

Spock didn't respond right away except for a dispassionately raised eyebrow, "I can assure you, I am more than capable of meeting your requirements. I have recently returned from Prague where I was repairing the Orloj astrolabe."

Pavel's eyes lit up. "You worked on Prague Orloj!" he gasped.

"Indeed. In fact, I was one of the mathematicians that originally devised it."

"Oh!" Grumpiness momentarily forgotten, Pavel beamed. "I always wanted to go to Prague and see astrolabe there. When I was seven, I --"

"Yeah, yeah," the brown-haired man elbowed Spock out of the way. This man was also easier to understand than Captain Kirk, his accent drawling out slower. "There's plenty of time for that nonsense after you're married. C'mon kid, it's time for your examination."

Pavel squeaked. "Ex-examination?"

"Yeah – have to make sure the goods are saleable," the brown-haired man winked at him as Pavel blushed deeply. "You can bring your servant and Miss Nyota if'n you want, but it's going to be a very personal examination."

Pavel gulped. His Hikaru put a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no," the tsarevich said, shrugging off Hikaru's hand. "I want to go alone, Hikaru. You stay with your new friend and talk."

Hikaru frowned, but Pavel turned away.

* * *

The Palace was the largest building inside the walls of the castle. It melded into the rain and fog – inside it was all dark wood painted over with not-very-lively colours. It was incredibly dull and depressing.

The brown-haired man, a healer called McCoy, led Pavel to a tiny secluded room in the palace. They hid inside a quadrangle of white hanging sheets, where McCoy told Pavel to take off his clothes. The healer was tall and well-built, with heavy, wide hands that he put on Pavel's body. Having only been touched, really, by his Hikaru (and maybe a quick kiss or hug from his parents or brothers), Pavel wasn't prepared for the healer's warm, calloused hands on his flesh. He squirmed and blushed and kept his fists clenched over his privates throughout the examination.

"Well, you're healthy enough," McCoy said. He tapped Pavel's clenched fists. "But you gotta let me take a lot at that, too."

Pavel squirmed and blushed even harder. "D-do I?"

"Yes," McCoy gave Pavel a look that said he wasn't going to listen to any pleading. Maybe his Hikaru was right – maybe he _couldn't_ get away with his 'nonsense' here. "You don't have to be embarrassed," McCoy said gently prying the tsarevich's hands away from his cock which, sure enough, was half-hard. "It's perfectly normal," he went on, putting his hand over that hot piece of flesh, and squeezing slightly. "You're in good working order, and you're all clean. You should be happy. Scotty will be."

Pavel had his eyes squeezed shut and his face pointed away. He flinched ever so slightly at the casual, familiar mention of his soon-to-be-husband. "Will I have to – is he –" he stuttered uselessly.

"You don't have to worry about that tonight. You're just going to take it easy, you hear me?" McCoy's hand moved further back, and Pavel gasped at it brushed a part of him that nobody, not even his Hikaru, had gotten close too. "Now, you are a virgin, right?"

Pavel didn't think it was possible, but his face flushed even hotter. He tried to formulate an answer but he couldn't.

"If you're not, I'll be able to tell," McCoy said warningly.

"Da, da!" Pavel cried out at last. "I mean, yes, I am virgin," he nodded his head miserably. _Not for want of trying_, he thought.

McCoy smirked and withdrew his hand. "It's okay, kid, relax. I'm supposed to ask, it's tradition. It doesn't actually matter. And you can't tell if a boy is still a virgin." McCoy sat down on a nearby stool and handed Pavel his clothing. "Between you and me, I'm skeptical if you can even tell if a girl is a virgin, really, but nobody listens to me. Both my ex-wives used pig's blood to stain the sheets on our wedding nights."

Pavel's eyes widened and he visibly balked, half into his tunic. "Pig's blood! Eugh!"

McCoy chuckled. "You won't have to do that. Scotty will love you just the way you are," he leaned back and regarded the boy a short while. "Now, is there anything you want to know?"

"Nyet," Pavel shook his head, avoiding the healer's gaze. "I will ask my Hikaru if there is anything," he shifted a little bit on his feet. "My teacher, Mister Spock – is he an elf?"

McCoy laughed out loud. "No, not really. I mean, maybe. Maybe half."

Pavel frowned and wrung his hands. "But he looks so strange. Is he a wizard?"

McCoy chuckled again. "Yeah, kid, he's a wizard. Don't tell that to his face, though. Look, if you need anything just ask for me, okay? How are you feeling now?"

Pavel sighed, suddenly weary again. "I am very tired," he said.

_

* * *

_

The sun set so fast – all of a sudden it was dark – and the rain beat down on the stones outside their little room in the Palace. It was somberly painted, and musty inside. Pavel sat staring moodily out the window at the grey skies and the valley filled with mist while his Hikaru sorted through his clothing for the next day.

"You're not going to be such a brat tomorrow," Hikaru warned. "I swear to God, Pavel, I am not above taking you into a closet and giving you a thrashing on your wedding day."

"I am not being a brat!" Pavel sniped. "This place is awful! Look outside. Some people might think it's romantic, but not me," he wrapped arms around himself, shivering ever so slightly. "And it's so _damp_. I'm going to catch my death."

Hikaru came up to him, draping another sweater around his shoulders. "No, you won't," he said.

"And the _worst_ part," Pavel paused, his voice shaky. He realized something had caught in his chest, something round and vulnerable, that he had been ignoring for a while. He turned to Hikaru, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. "The worst part is that I will lose you," he sniffed.

Hikaru's beautiful eyes opened ever so slightly and his beautiful lips parted, like he was surprised Pavel would ever think that. "Oh, Pasha, no," he said, and reached out his arms to the tsarevich. Pavel came over and settled himself on his Hikaru's lap, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. "I came here with you, I'm not about to leave. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

"But she is so pretty," Pavel whispered into Hikaru's neck.

"Who, Nyota?" Hikaru asked. He paused for a long while. "Well, yeah, she is. But that doesn't mean you'll lose me."

"And also I will be married and I won't get to pretend anymore," Pavel said, even more softly, his eyes closing against tears.

"Well, that's true," Hikaru said. He pressed his lips against Pavel's temple. "But it doesn't mean I'll stop loving you."

Pavel clenched his fists for courage, leaned up and, for the last time, tried to kiss Hikaru on the mouth.

"Pavel..." Hikaru started but no other words came.

"Just for practice," Pavel said softly, against the other man's lips.

"All right. But just for practice," Hikaru agreed, and then gave Pavel the kisses he had been dreaming off all these years.

* * *

Perhaps the kissing practice wasn't the best idea.

On the day of his wedding, Pavel at least had the morning to himself, with nowhere to rush to and nothing happening until the afternoon. The sky was still dark, the town and valley and Nor Loch beneath the Castle still shrouded with fog, and the rain beat down like a drum. Pavel spent the morning writing in his journal, lamenting his last hours as a free bachelor, and trying not to annoy his Hikaru, who looked at him with such love and sadness that it broke his heart.

Eventually though, he was cosseted up in his white shirt and embroidered vest, and his Hikaru was leading him down and out in the rain to St Margaret's Chapel, across the square from the Palace. He felt silly and out of place – all the other men were in masculine, warm-looking kilts. But it was when he got inside the Chapel and a got a first glimpse of his husband that he really felt guilty.

St Margaret's Chapel was a tiny, little white chapel, with hardly any room for Spock (who was officiating apparently), Pavel, King Montgomery, and their witnesses – Miss Nyota, Captain Kirk, the healer McCoy and his own Hikaru. It was actually quite cramped.

And the King – well, it's not that he wasn't handsome. On second glance, he was actually not that bad looking at all. He was just so... pasty, and unkempt, even with all the intricate grooming that came with being King. He had too much hair on his face and not enough on his head, and his smile was lopsided and full of crooked teeth.

But it was after the long, boring parts of the ceremony – Pavel was too overcome with depression to be able to hear the English words – when the King kissed him, that Pavel really felt disappointed.

It was _nothing_ like Hikaru's kisses.

Pavel stood there and bore the indignity of it, however, trying to keep himself from shaking, or crying, or throwing a punch, trying to be strong for himself, for his country, for his new husband, for his father, and for his Hikaru.

There was a grand party in the Great Hall, and Pavel lost track of time, staring at the red walls and miles of paintings and _not_ his new husband. He found himself wishing this were all over, but then wishing it would go on forever so he didn't have to face what happened afterwards. There was a lot of that awful hot liquid called scotch, but there also, thoughtfully, a lot of vodka.

Pavel drank and drank, and was frankly impressed when King Montgomery could match him drink for drink.

"Och, lad," the King slurred, holding Pavel tightly to him. They had been dancing, Pavel red-faced and staring down at his feet. Now they were slumped together on a cushioned seat, the King clutching Pavel with one arm, Pavel trying to shy away, biting a nail compulsively. "I wish you were happier the night."

"I am sorry," Pavel said unenthusiastically.

"Ach, dinnae be sorry," the King said, his face falling a little like Hikaru's had the night before. "I'm sorry. I ken how much a burden this must be fae you, and you must be so tired. You cannae be having any fun, how could you," he brushed through Pavel's curls with his free hand. "D'ye want to get out of here? Couch down fae the night?"

Pavel worried at his fingernail a little more, and his wide eyes slid over to where his Hikaru was talking with Miss Nyota, standing by an impressive display of spears and swords. Well, it didn't matter anymore. He was married and that was that. It was time to start being a man and stop pining.

"I would like," he said, very softly. Hastily, he added, "if that pleases you, your highness, sir."

"Oh, my wee bairn," the King chuckled softly and he brushed a kiss against Pavel's forehead. His stubble grazed Pavel's skin and the tsarevich's face got hot, and other parts. "Call me Scotty. All my friends do."

* * *

The King's quarters were obviously quite a bit more lavish than the other rooms in the Palace that Pavel had yet seen, but were still quite small, damp and dark compared to the place Pavel had grown up in.

He lay under the down blankets on the King's bed, naked and shivering, while his new husband ran rough, thick fingers over his chest and stomach and lower. There were no sounds other than the both of them breathing heavily, and the rain pounding on the windows.

"Ye all reet?" Scotty asked, still slurring as he pressed his face into Pavel's neck.

"Da, yes," Pavel lied. He was terrified, gripping Scotty's broad shoulders. It wasn't that terrible – the stubble brushing against his neck made even the smallest hairs stand up on end, and the rest of his body was similarly charged – and he was definitely hard.

He was drunk enough that it was easy for his mind to wander, for his head to grow heavy with his eyes closed and for him to pretend he was elsewhere. He hoped the King was also drunk enough that he wouldn't notice.

But he was also so tense. He tightened his grip on Scotty's shoulders as the King pressed warm, oil-slicked fingers into him, wincing against the discomfort. This was not at all what he wanted, when he lay coiled up next to his Hikar – stop thinking of that, he scolded himself. He closed his eyes and forced his thoughts towards his new husband, the alliance with his father, to Russia.

Soon, though, Scotty was pushing into him, and oh, it hurt. He buried his head in the King's shoulder and although he tried, he couldn't think of anything besides the blinding pain. He got soft. He grit his teeth and counted the thrusts, waiting for his new husband to be finished.

Scotty did come eventually, strangling out "Oh, Pavel!" and collapsing on top of him. Pavel bit his lip and kept quiet as he felt Scotty soften and slip out of him. The older man caught his breath for a few moments, and rubbed his face against Pavel's, and then rolled off him. He wrapped his strong arms around the tsarevich and pulled him close. "Oh, Pavel," he breathed again, dropping kisses all over Pavel's sweaty face. He pulled back and looked at the boy. "Are you – are you crying?" he asked, tenderly.

And indeed, Pavel was, and he couldn't hide it anymore. He was racking with his own sobs and his face was wet with tears. He buried his face in Scotty's chest as the other man rocked him gently.

"Am sorry," Pavel choked out. His English failed him further and he muttered out apologies in Russian – "I wanted to be better for you, I wanted to please you --"

"Oh my wee petal, my wee love," Scotty said. "Did I hurt you?"

"Am okay," Pavel said weakly.

"Och, naw," Scotty murmured again, his hands wandering down to Pavel's flank, stroking him softly. "What a daft bugger I am. I shouldnae have taken you to bed the night, I was too blutered to listen properly."

"Nyet," Pavel sobbed. He wiped at his eyes. "Is not that," he insisted, although it was, part of it. Mostly it was just the realization that this was it for the rest of his life.

Scotty tried to hug him close again, but Pavel pushed him away. "I do not want..." his English failed him again, and he settled on moving back a few inches and turning away, curling himself around a gathered up part of the blankets.

He heard Scotty sigh behind him, and felt the other man's hand reach out and stroke his curls, like his Hikaru used to do. "I'm sorry, my wee love," the King murmured. Pavel didn't answer.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, against all odds, was sunny and bright. Pavel peeked out the window into the castle grounds and was surprised to see that the fog had receded, light spilling down all over the castle and the Nor Loch. There were rows of pretty potted plants lining the buildings that Pavel hadn't noticed before.

He was still slightly sore, and Scotty more or less fell all over himself trying to make Pavel comfortable.

"Am well enough to move," Pavel protested weakly. "Please. The sun is out, I want to go outside."

"Are you sure, love?" Scotty's face had been creased with concern ever since the tsarevich woke up. "They can bring us food here," he said. "You don't want to lie in a wee longer? You're not hungover? We were both so legless last night," the King rubbed at his own face.

"Nyet," Pavel said. "I want to go outside."

"I'm knackered. Completely useless the now," Scotty looked quite endearing rubbing his face tiredly like that, and Pavel smiled. "Ah, there's a bonny smile," the King said. Pavel was sitting up on the bed, Scotty kneeling in front of him. The King leaned forward and dropped a kiss on his nose. "If you want to go outside, then let's get dressed. After we eat I can show you your presents."

"Presents?" Pavel asked, his eyes brightening a little.

"Aye, your presents, you wee numptie," the King's eyes twinkled and he dropped another kiss between Pavel's eyes. "What kindae husband would I be if I hadnae gotten you some lovely presents, eh?"

Pavel watched shyly as his new husband shrugged on a simple white shirt that tied closed in the front, and then wrapped himself in a long swath of dark green and black tartan wool. There was a whole procedure involved, but soon Scotty stood handsomely in a knee-length kilt, the plaid pinned over his left shoulder. Pavel swallowed back a lump – he didn't want to find this man handsome.

"Can I wear something like that?" he asked softly, still feeling a little silly about his embroidered vests and loose trousers.

"Och of course!" Scotty went and opened a trunk, revealing several different lengths of tartan. "These colours are all the Scott clan tartans. You'll see that all my people wear them, and you will too, but..." he took out a swath of wool, about four yards long. Pavel could not quite place the colours right away – thick lines of grey, black and white crossing so that he couldn't tell which colour was the field and which colours were the lines. Thin rows of red collided overtop. "This is the Balmoral tartan, and only members of the royal family may wear it. Which means me and you, my petal."

Pavel rolled out of bed and stood wrapped up in the bedsheets while Scotty spread the long swath of fabric over the bed. Scotty then pleated the fabric in the middle part, painstakingly, but quickly. Pavel watched his hands so that he could do this quickly soon too.

"Lie down," Scotty instructed. Pavel blushed and hesitantly shed the sheets he had pulled around himself, and lay down on the tartan, right on the line of pleats. The top of the rectangle of fabric reached past the the top of his head, and the bottom cut off right behind his knees.

Scotty didn't say anything about how Pavel still clenched his fists over his privates, nervously. He pulled the kilt over Pavel from one side, enveloping him inside the rough wool.

Pavel squirmed a little against the fabric prickling against his soft skin. Scotty chuckled. "Tickles a little, aye? All right love, pull your arms out."

Pavel did so, now completely covered by the tartan, and bit his lip. His skin had grown hot and prickly against the wool of the kilt, and he tried not to rub his stirring cock against the fabric. He hoped his new husband wouldn't notice, not wanting to encourage anymore sexual contact just the now.

Scotty pulled the other half of the fabric over Pavel, wrapping him up entirely in the fabric, so Pavel couldn't even see. "Easy, peasy. Just like a wee bairn," Scotty said. Pavel felt him thread a belt around Pavel's waist and buckle it. Then he felt Scotty's hands on his shoulder, gently supporting him. "Stand up, love."

Pavel did, and the plaid fell around him – the part of the fabric above his belt covered entirely the kilt, falling almost to his ankles, looking like a woman's full skirt. Pavel caught a glimpse of himself in the large, full-length mirror on the wall and reddened, taking in his pale, skinny chest. He heard Scotty chuckle.

"I look silly," the tsarevich said, miserably.

"Naw, you look right bonny. We just forgot about your shirt!" Scotty chuckled again as he handed Pavel a white shirt, which the boy shrugged on, and then tucked underneath the belt and plaid. "Much as I'd love to have you running about shirtless, it would not be the proper thing to do. Now." Scotty stood behind Pavel and took both the boy's hands in his. "This is called the apron plaid," he reached down with Pavel's right hand and grasped a corner of the plaid in front of him, and then the opposite corner behind him with his left hand. "And it's very easy. You just pull it up like this -" he gathered the plaid over Pavel's left shoulder and arranged Pavel's hands to hold the fabric together. "If it was raining, you could just pull the plaid over your head. But today, we'll pin it. This came with your things, here, it's your da's coat of arms, innit?"

Scotty produced, from a small wooden box that Pavel recognized as his own jewel box, a large brooch with a golden, double-headed eagle, holding a sceptre and a bauble in its talons. Scotty pinned it on the plaid at Pavel's shoulder, and the tsarevich smiled despite himself, seeing his venerable father's noble crest against his husband's royal tartan.

"There's that bonny smile again," Scotty said softly. He put his hands on Pavel's upper arms, and kissed him yet again on the forehead.

Pavel squirmed, trying to ignore the wool against his cock and the stubble brushing his face, and stared down at the brooch by his shoulder.

"Pavel, I..." Scotty started, very very softly. "Well. It disnae matter. Let's go outside."

* * *

They ate in the Great Hall, and then went out into the sunshine, the cool air and gentle breeze wafting around them. Pavel thrilled to the kiss of the sun, turning his face to it, closing his eyes against the breeze flitting through his curls, and, deliciously, between his thighs.

Scotty led him over to one of the walls of the castle and Pavel's breath was almost taken away when he looked out. "It is prettier today," he said.

"Aye," Scotty laughed. "Only because it's no raining. But even when it's raining, it's a bonny place. Look, there," the King pointed. "That's Arthur's Seat – a volcano. Actually, the castle is built on a volcano, too."

"Really!" Pavel's eyes widened.

"Aye, relax my wee petal, they're dead volcanoes. Look, down there. That's the Canon's Gait," he pointed down the narrow road that Captain Kirk had brought him up the day he had arrived. It tapered down the hill, going into the peasant town below, and out all the way to the city wall – one straight line away from the castle. "The canons – that's a priest like, for instance, our own Mister Spock, they walk all the way down there to their abbey at Holyrood. And since many of the canons are so fat, their gait is wide, like this," he wrapped his hands around Pavel's hips and swayed them from side to side.

Pavel laughed, both at his husband's impression and the flirting, and then suddenly felt very bad for enjoying it. He pushed his new husband away without a word and took a few steps forward.

"Ehm," Scotty said, trying to salvage his dignity. "I have another palace there, at Holyrood, that's why they also call it the Royal Mile, because it links both the castle and the palace. Holyrood is prettier, I would've liked to have had our wedding there but it's nae well protected," he paused for a beat, watching the tsarevich, who was now looking away, out at the water of the Firth of Forth in the distance, silently. "We can go see it when we have our trip, though," he added uselessly.

Pavel kept staring out at the Firth, watching the calm expanse of water. He was still uncomfortably half-hard under his kilt, his skin prickling against the unfamiliar fabric, and he hated feeling this way, and feeling so good when Scotty put his hands on him. But then he would remember Russia, and his father's alliance, and feel bad for feeling bad. This wasn't fair.

His attention was caught by the fluttering of a cape on the promenade below the wall he was standing in front of. Pavel looked down to see Miss Nyota walking with Captain Kirk, the tall man's cloak trailing behind him in the breeze. At Nyota's heels traipsed a black and furry little thing. Pavel looked up at Scotty, his previous anxiety momentarily forgotten.

"Is that a...?" his English failed in his excitement.

"Aye," Scotty grinned and his eyes twinkled again. "Your father told me you had lots of dogs in Russia?"

"Da, my laikas," Pavel confirmed. Nyota and Kirk had by now disappeared into a staircase below, and reappeared shortly coming out of the wall by Pavel and the King. They were both wearing one of the Scott tartans, in a dark blue. Kirk was impossibly handsome in a kilt with no plaid under his cloak, showing off strong legs, the shirt open over his muscled chest. Nyota wore a fitted bodice around her considerable figure, and a full tartan skirt that fell in a big circle around her, foofing around regally as she walked.

Nyota grinned at Pavel and held out the puppy. "Congratulations on your wedding Pavel!" she said, her face lighting up into a smile.

The puppy was black and sleek, and had little legs and a wizard-like beard. Pavel couldn't help but smile when he took the puppy in his hands and it licked at his face. "I have never seen a laika like this before!" he lapsed back into Russian in his excitement and Nyota beamed right back at him.

"He's a little scottie terrier. Keenser, the King's dog, had puppies last month."

"Ah, spasibo!" Pavel turned and pushed himself up onto his toes to kiss his new husband on the cheek. "Thank you!"

* * *

The little group took a long walk around the castle grounds, Pavel revelling in the sunshine and the breeze and how _beautiful_ the surrounding countryside was, all green and lively and dotted with bright flowers. Scotty and Captain Kirk talked long and fast in their thick accents, while Nyota hung back with Pavel, stopping often to play with Andrei the terrier, speaking in Russian.

"Do you like the castle so far?" she asked, neutrally.

Pavel didn't answer right away, watching Andrei chase bugs in a patch of grass on one of the lawns. "It is very pretty, but...I don't know."

Nyota nodded. "It's hard when you're away from home for the first time. It's okay if you're overwhelmed. If you ever want to talk to somebody, you know, in private, you can always come to me," she winked at him, and for a moment Pavel saw why Hikaru was so dazzled by her. "I won't tell Scotty anything you don't want me to."

Pavel smiled. "Yes. I would like that." They walked a little further, laughing at Andrei's antics. "Scotty, he... he is very nice, isn't he?"

Nyota nodded. "Yes, he is."

"I was so scared of him at first, but now I feel foolish," Pavel confessed.

"I was scared when I came here first, too," Nyota said. "I left my family behind just like you, Pavel, and I didn't know what was going to happen. But Scotty is the nicest person I've ever served."

Pavel looked ahead at where Scotty and Captain Kirk stood – Scotty was doubled over with laughter from some story Captain Kirk was telling. The younger man kept talking, punctuating his points now and then with a friendly punch to the King's shoulder.

"My father would never laugh at his one of his captain's jokes," Pavel said. "He was not kind to his servants. But Scotty talks to you all like you are his friends."

Nyota smiled slowly and beautifully. "That's exactly it," she said. "We're his friends."

* * *

"Thank you for my present, sir," Pavel said after they took their lunch outside near one of the walls. Well, Scotty, Nyota and Captain Kirk had taken their lunch, Pavel played around on the stones with Andrei.

"Och, that wasn't your present laddie. Every boy needs a dog," Scotty said. He nodded towards the castle gate, at a skinny tower just beyond. "Your present is down there."

* * *

"There" was an ordinary tenement building, apparently housing for some soldiers who stood at attention to let Scotty and Pavel pass while Captain Kirk stayed at street level chatting away with them.

On the roof of the tenement building was the white tower visible from inside the castle walls, with a ruddy dark dome on top. Scotty took Pavel all the way up to the top of the building, inside the white tower, and into a darkened room.

"What –" Pavel started, but Scotty hushed him.

"You'll see," he said in the darkness. Pavel heard the squeaking of metal and then a beam of light poured onto a concave surface in the middle of the room. Pavel stepped forward – a piece of stone had been carved into a large, smooth bowl and painted white. From directly above light beamed down, projecting an image of the castle.

How...?

Pavel's head shot up to the top of the room – he couldn't quite see it, but he knew the light had to be pouring from a pinpoint somewhere. Above the bowl, Scotty gripped a metal rod attached to the ceiling. When he twisted his hand around it, the image on the bowl spinned, taking in any view of the land from the white tower's vantage point so high on Castle Rock.

"It's a camera obscura!" Pavel declared.

"Aye, very clever!" Scotty responded, beaming. "It's naething but mirrors, lenses and daylight, but I knew you would appreciate it."

"I made a pinhole camera with my Hikaru to watch the solar eclipse," Pavel said. His gaze shifted from the pretty landscapes on the bowl to the roof, where he was still trying to find the pinhole.

"I know," Scotty's eyes twinkled in the reflected light from the bowl, and Pavel was starting to be a little charmed by that twinkle. "Tha' was when Captain Kirk was visiting you. He told me all about it, and you, and I fell in love with you right away. I thought it was the finest thing a young boy could do."

"My father thought it was waste of time," Pavel said.

"Well, your father isn't here, and you're the king consort of Scotland now. You can do whate'er you wish," Scotty twisted the metal rod and looked up towards the hidden pinhole of light. "I wanted to build you this to show you how much that tickled me. And because I wanted you to see."

The two leaned with their elbows on the edges of the white bowl, looking at the perfect image beamed there, more lifelike than any painting. Scotty pointed out the Pentland Hills, Arthur's Seat, the Grassmarket down in the peasant village, the Tron ("my father used to hang criminals there, but I put an end to tha'"), and the Kingdom of Fife beyond the Firth ("that's ours as well"). The quality of the lenses and mirrors was so good that Pavel could even watch people walking around inside the castle walls, or down on the Canon's Gait.

They talked about the town, about all the secret little stairways and alleys and taverns where wonderful things happened. Scotty was so proud of his country, and the people who were so kind, he said, and so quick to share a song and a dram. He twisted the rod and the image spun, and he showed Pavel Cockburn Street, which wound up from the Royal Mile, supplemented by steep little stairways. There was a pub hidden in there, he said, and they would go with Captain Kirk and Hikaru and he would teach Pavel to drink whiskey properly.

"And after Sunday," he said, "we'll head out for Glaschu and then Loch Lomond, and even to the islands, if you fancy, but I don't think you'll be able to ken what anybody says out there. We can go riding. You can bring Andrei, and yes, Hikaru too. And we'll go to the palace at Lithgae for a while and you can see where I was born. My country isnae as big as yours, but it's very bonnie and I think you'll like it."

The light was starting to fade after their long talk, but neither of them seemed to notice as it grew darker and darker inside the camera obscura. They stood closer, in order to see each other, and talked about how the the rods moved the lenses and mirrors – all very easy stuff, really. Scotty moved on to bigger projects he wanted to develop, and the subjects that Pavel's teacher, Mister Spock, was developing. While Spock had published manuscripts about mathematics and the stars, the beauty of which had been compared to Chaucer, Scotty had ideas that put the mathematics into motion, completely logical ideas for flying machines that could touch those very stars. Pavel was dazzled, having never met a man so smart and forward thinking, and for once in his life was exhilarated to learn. He finally met someone who could show him what he was longing to see.

He wasn't quite sure when the kiss started, or who initiated it, but eventually he had his arms around his new husband's neck, lapping his tongue in and out of that stubbly mouth, running over crooked teeth. Scotty's hands were tangled in his curls and stroking across his back. Scotty sucked on Pavel's tongue, and then nipped at his lips, and when Pavel was panting and heavy-lidded he laid the boy's head on his shoulder, nuzzling his ear.

It was completely dark.

"We should go," Pavel said.

"Hold on," Scotty took Pavel's hand and groped his way to the door of the tower in the darkness. "There is one last part of your present."

"Another part?" Pavel couldn't help but smile, his mind fuzzy from the kiss, which was _much_ better than Hikaru's. "Scotty, you are... ah, you are so generous."

"Och," Scotty scoffed. He got the door open and led Pavel out into the rooftop of the tenement building. The moon and stars were bright enough that they could see here. From the streets they could hear soldiers talking and joking, and further down the Royal Mile came the faint sound of music – fiddles and a kind of drum that Pavel had seen at their wedding, skin stretched tight over a short ring of wood and beaten with a small double-headed pestle, which Scotty had told him was called a _bodrhan_.

"Here," Scotty said, taking Pavel to a corner of the rooftop.

It was a telescope.

Pavel almost squealed, and clapped his hands over his mouth, embarrassed. He had read about such an invention, of course, but they were such a new development that he had never been able to see one in real life. He surmised that, if built correctly, one could see the stars more clearly with a telescope, or even see celestial bodies that weren't visible to the naked eye. And he had said as much to Captain Kirk on his visit.

And here he was, standing in front of one. A big, bulky, cumbersome looking thing, positioned so that it stared hopefully at the skies.

"You build this for me?" Pavel asked feverishly when his English returned to him.

"Aye," Scotty couldn't stop smiling. "When Captain Kirk told me how excited you were to talk about telescopes I knew I had to at least try. Poor bloke had no clue what you were on about!"

Pavel peered through the telescope, holding his breath, and almost died when he got such a close up view of the moon that he could see every crater, ever textured detail. A whole new world of possibility was open up to him.

"You do so much work on this, for me," Pavel said, maybe a little sadly. He wrapped his arms around his handsome new husband and looked up at him. "Am not worth it."

"Of course you're worth it," Scotty said. He kissed him on the forehead, a slow, sweet kiss. "And it wasn't that much work. Just lenses, and mirrors, and starlight."

* * *

When they got back to the castle, they raced each other up to the King's bedroom, and into his bed. The kilts unwound from their bodies easily after belts and brooches were taken off. They collapsed into the blankets naked, and Pavel eagerly launched himself at his new husband, unbelievably turned on by all that astronomy and maths talk.

He pulled himself up over Scotty, straddling the older man's thighs, gripping the King's jaw and kissing him deeply. Kissing was sound.

Scotty reciprocated, putting his hands on Pavel's face, but slowly pried the tsarevich off him. "Och, lad, let an old man catch his breath," he said. "Are you sure you don't just want to cuddle? After last night, I dinnae want to hurt –"

"Am sure," Pavel said. He rocked back and forth, vigorously rubbing himself against the older man's thighs. "Can you feel?"

"Aye, I feel your stonner, too right," Scotty said, a faint note of disbelief in his voice. "But that disnae mean, necessarily, tha –"

"I want, husband, please," Pavel said, panting. He wasn't going to last much longer anyway, after the maddening rough rub of that wool kilt all day long.

Scotty pushed himself up on his elbows and initiated another long, slobbering kiss. He worried Pavel's lower lip between his teeth a little. "I don't know what a looker like you would want with such a minger like me," he said softly.

Pavel tilted his head slightly, confused. "I do not understand," he said.

"Ah, petal, it's just... I'm scared I'll hurt you like last night. I'm so sorry, I –"

"Ssh!" Pavel said. He pressed another kiss against Scotty's lips to silence him. "I do not want to hear any more about last night. I am sure there will be other times that you disappoint me. Save your apologies."

Scotty grinned a lopsided, devastatingly charming grin. "Aye, love, I suppose I will just have to learn to listen to my wee husband then."

"Da."

They kissed again, and Scotty reached over to a bedside drawer for the oil. He lay back again looking up at Pavel straddling his thighs, and showed the boy how to slick up his erection.

"You tell me as soon as it hurts," he warned. Pavel rolled his eyes and guided Scotty's oil-slicked fingers behind him, pressing them inside just enough to get him ready.

Then Pavel, wide-eyed and breathing heavy, leaned himself forward and lifted himself up, and then eased himself down on his husband's cock.

"Ai!" he cried out in pleasure.

"Aye!" Scotty agreed.

Pavel laughed tightly, a happy and hot sound as he started bouncing up and down, interspersed with moans. He tightened his thighs against Scotty's flank. Scotty gripped Pavel's hips and watched the boy's face, sweaty and beautiful in the torch light. He ran one hand across that beautiful face, and Pavel gripped his arm, sucking on fingers with a feverish urgency.

"Ai, moy ljubóv," he muttered, rocking on top of Scotty faster and faster. He guided Scotty's big hand down his chest, caressing that arm, and soon he was coming in quick, heady spurts. "Moy ljubímyj!" he called out happily.

Scotty came soon after him, with not much sound, his cheeks sore from smiling, staring up at the tsarevich's beautiful face. After a long moment of panting and glowing and blessing his luck, Scotty shook Pavel slightly. "Git down from there," he said. "You're going to be sore if you don't."

Pavel begrudgingly climbed off his new husband and settled himself down for a cuddle. Scotty wrapped him up in sweaty arms and pressed kisses against his curls. "Well, I think we can get used to that, my wee petal, can't we?" he asked.

Pavel nodded sleepily. "Da."

* * *

A few days later Pavel had once again packed his bags, not to leave his home, but to explore his new one. He finally saw his Hikaru again, loading bags into the carriage. The older man smiled at him, and helped Pavel up into the carriage. Hikaru looked as handsome as ever in the green version of the Scott tartan, with knee-high socks and his sword on his belt. He word no plaid on his shoulder, like Captain Kirk, and a dashing black cloak, and Pavel hadn't been married he would've fallen in love all over again.

Hikaru smiled up at him from the ground as Pavel sat in the carriage, squirming from his sensitive and oversexed naked skin rubbing up against the wool of his kilt. "I haven't seen you in a few days," Hikaru asked in Russian. "Have you been okay?"

"Yes," Pavel smiled, blushing only a little. "But what have you been doing?"

"Helping the quartermaster. I'm going to teach the soldiers Eastern swordfighting."

"Aye, that will be good," Pavel said. "But, I am happy you are coming with me on this trip."

"Yeah, me too," Hikaru said. Then he lifted himself up into the carriage, leaning over to whisper at Pavel. "Listen, Pasha – would you be really upset if I started courting Nyota?"

Pavel blinked. In one part of his heart, yes, he would be devastated. But a bigger part, who was consumed by mathematics and telescopes and the stars, and looked up at his Hikaru and saw how beautiful he was and how much he deserved it, would be very happy.

"No," he said. "I would not be upset."

Hikaru broke into a gorgeous grin. "Really?"

"Yes," Pavel fidgeted a little, and then captured Hikaru in a tight hug. "You go be happy, Hikaru."

He felt Hikaru smile against his forehead. "You too Pasha."

"I am."

"Good," Hikaru said. He broke away, and took Pavel's chin in his hand. "I have to go pack up the other carriage. You behave yourself." Then he dropped a kiss the bridge of Pavel's nose, and got out of the carriage.

Pavel wrapped his arms around himself. He looked up at the grey sky – it was starting to rain a little, but that was okay – and smiled. His Hikaru was happy now, and so was he.

THE END


End file.
